Chapter 5
Chapter
Five
Winter
"Absolutely not." I folded my arms, the blue symbols on my skin pulsed with my annoyance. "I'm not having anyone poking around in my head."
"Ms. Winter," Fenric's voice was tight as he stood at the entrance to the Prophetic Evaluation Bureau, a gleaming glass building that looked suspiciously like a corporate headquarters for a tech startup.
It was weird to see it from the outside instead of popping out of a stone lion's mouth inside.
"This Destiny Evaluation is mandatory for all newly manifested prophecies, especially if you had a prophetic dream. "
"It wasn't a prophecy dream." I insisted for what felt like the hundredth time.
"The glowing blue prophecy markings crawling up your arm suggest otherwise," Fenric's perfect silver-blond hair was not moving despite the wind that tossed my own into my face. "As do the multiple reality-altering incidents you've caused in the last 72 hours."
"Minor incidents," I corrected.
"You made it rain frogs in your apartment building," Rook growled from behind me. He stood with his arms crossed, dark stubble shadowing his jaw, looking like he'd rather be anywhere else.
"They were small frogs," I grumbled, not looking at him. He had a right to be angry, one frog jumped when he was yelling and went down his throat. It had been a whole ordeal.
Zane snorted. "And the vending machine that tried to murder Rook?"
"That wasn't my fault. It wouldn't give me crackers! Look, I just don't want people rooting around in my head, okay?" I crossed my arms over my chest.
Fenric checked his immaculate silver watch because, of course, it was. "We're now seven minutes behind schedule. Dr. Thornwick does not appreciate tardiness."
"Well, I don't appreciate mind invasion, so I guess we're even." I stuck my tongue out at Fenric.
Fenric's fingers twitched toward his breast pocket, where I knew he kept a small crystal that could knock me unconscious. I'd seen him fondling it when I was being particularly difficult.
"Ms. Winter." His voice dropped to that dangerous bureaucratic tone that meant he was about to cite policy.
"Under Section 734-C of the Magical Compliance Code, all individuals manifesting Class C or higher prophetic abilities must undergo evaluation within 72 hours of initial manifestation.
Failure to comply will result in forcible compliance. "
I stared at him. "Forcible compliance? Are you threatening me?"
"He's stating facts," Zane's voice was gentler than Fenric's, but no less firm. "Winter, you need to do this. Your power is growing, and you don't know how to control it."
I glanced at my arm, where the blue symbols had indeed spread further up toward my elbow. They pulsed with my heartbeat, a constant reminder that something inside me had fundamentally changed.
"Fine," I finally agreed. "But I want it on record that I'm doing this under protest." I was so going to get lectured for not telling them about the dream me.
"Noted," Fenric looked relieved as he gestured toward the entrance. "Now, please. Dr. Thornwick has shifted his entire morning schedule to accommodate you."
As we went inside, the receptionist from the other day was there.
"Destiny Evaluation for Winter Greene," Fenric announced, as if I were a package he was delivering.
"Suite 418," the receptionist replied, her eyes flashing briefly at me. "Dr. Thornwick is waiting."
We took an elevator up, my stomach knotting tighter with each floor we passed.
Rook stood beside me, silent but solid, his large frame somehow reassuring despite his perpetual scowl.
Zane lounged against the opposite wall, his mismatched eyes focused on me with an intensity that made me shift uncomfortably.
Milo was missing today, some kind of necromantic conference he couldn't get out of.
"It won't hurt," Zane glanced at me. "The evaluation. It's like dreaming while awake."
"You've had one?" I was surprised.
A shadow crossed his face. "I've seen them done. On friends."
The elevator doors slid open before I could ask what happened to these "friends." We stepped into a hallway that was somehow even more pristinely white than the lobby.
Suite 418 turned out to be a large laboratory with various arcane equipment I couldn't begin to identify. In the center stood what looked like a dentist's chair from hell, surrounded by crystals on mechanical arms.
Oh fuck this shit up a alley way.
The gnome from the other day stood near the equipment, looking just as dysfunctional. "Ah. Nearly eight minutes late, Fenric?"
"Apologies, Doctor. Ms. Winter required additional persuasion."
Dr. Thornwick turned to me, studying my face with scientific curiosity. "Fascinating. The markings have progressed to the secondary phase already. And we are sure she has no family history of prophecy?"
"None," Fenric looked down at his tablet to double check.
Who were we kidding? This was probably the hundredth because the guy was so anal.
"I'm standing right here," I pointed out.
Thornwick gestured to the chair. "Please, sit. We have much to explore."
I glanced back at Zane and Rook. Zane gave me an encouraging nod, while Rook just stared impassively.
"They can stay," Thornwick correctly interpreted my hesitation. "Though they must remain behind the observation line."
A faint yellow line on the floor marked a boundary about ten feet back from the chair. Zane and Rook stepped behind it, with Fenric joining them after giving Thornwick his tablet.
"Now, Ms. Winter," the doctor said as I reluctantly sat in the chair, "I understand you've been having visions. Dreams with prophetic significance."
"I don't remember any dreams," I lied, my heart pounding. I was sticking to it.
Thornwick furrowed his brow before moving his glasses up his nose. "That's what we're here to determine."
He pressed a button, and the crystal arms whirred to life, positioning themselves around my head.
"This will allow us to view any prophetic imaging stored in your memory," he patted my hand. "Even those you've repressed or forgotten."
"Wait!" My panic surged. I couldn't let them see. The older me had warned me, whispered things about the chalice and choices.
"Beginning evaluation sequence," Thornwick ignored my protest as he flipped a switch.
The crystals around my head began to glow, and I felt a strange pressure behind my eyes, like someone was gently but insistently pressing on my skull.
"Mild discomfort is normal," Thornwick was watching monitors. "Just focus on relaxing."
Relaxing was the last thing on my mind. My heart hammered against my ribs as I felt something slithering through my thoughts, invasive and cold.
I don't want this. I don't want them to see.
The blue symbols on my arm flared suddenly, bright as a spotlight.
"Interesting reaction," Thornwick muttered, adjusting something on his console. "The prophecy markings are responding defensively. I've never seen this pattern before."
The pressure in my head intensified, becoming painful. I gripped the armrests, knuckles turning white.
"Doctor," Fenric's voice came from beyond the yellow line, "her readings are spiking to dangerous levels." It almost sounded like the jerk was concerned.
"Just a moment more," Thornwick's eyes were fixed on his screen. "I'm seeing something rather unusual."
A high-pitched whine filled the air, and the crystals around my head began to vibrate. I could feel something building inside me, a pressure that went beyond physical sensation. It was like my very consciousness was being stretched.
"You can't see it," I whispered, not sure where the words were coming from. "It's not for you."
"What did she say?" Thornwick leaned closer.
And then it happened.
The pressure in my head exploded outward. Light poured from my eyes, my mouth, the markings on my arm. I caught a glimpse of the machines around me sparking before my vision swam and changed.
I was no longer in the lab. I stood in a circular chamber of stone, where nine figures in dark robes gathered around a pedestal. On the pedestal rested a simple clay cup.
"The Chalice isn't a cup," I heard myself say, but it wasn't my voice. It was older, harder. "It's a choice."
One of the robed figures turned. I caught a glimpse of a face beneath the hood, my face, but aged, scarred, with a leather eye patch.
"Find the Hidden Scroll," my older self urged. "Trust only the four who—"
The vision shattered as I was violently yanked back to reality. The lab was in chaos. Equipment had exploded, shards of crystal and metal flying through the air. Alarms blared, and smoke filled the room.
I was still in the chair, but something, or someone, was covering me. A warm, heavy weight. Strong arms wrapped around my head and torso protectively.
The weight shifted, and I found myself staring up at Rook's face, inches from mine. He'd thrown himself over me when the equipment exploded, using his body as a shield. A nasty gash ran along his temple, blood matting his dark hair.
"You're hurt," I gasped, reaching up without thinking to touch his cheek, just below the wound. His skin was hot, almost feverish.
For a heartbeat, something vulnerable flashed in his eyes, surprise, confusion, something else I couldn't name. Then his expression shuttered, and he pulled back, wiping blood from his face with the back of his hand.
"I'll heal," his tone gruff as he helped me sit up before stepping back, putting distance between us. He looked almost shocked that I had touched him, fingers absently brushing the spot where my hand had been.
The lab was a disaster zone. The crystal apparatus had completely shattered, and several of the monitoring stations were smoking. Fenric was furiously working a fire extinguisher while Thornwick stared at me with undisguised fascination.
"Extraordinary," he breathed, seemingly unconcerned that his lab was in flames. "A complete prophetic cascade. I've only read about such reactions!"
Zane appeared at my side. "You okay, Shortstack?"
I nodded weakly, though the room was still spinning. "What happened?"